was black and stormy, and the winds sang mournfully over the restless bodies of the half perishing soldiers. The guard was doubled in numbers, and instructed to give the alarm at the first sight of danger; but Rogers was happily disappointed. The night passed in perfect tranquility, except in the troubled minds and hearts of the suffering rangers.

With the dawn of the following day the clouds thinned and the weather became slightly improved. At an early hour Pontiac and his chiefs returned. The chief replied to the words of Rogers, saying that he was willing to live at peace with the English, and would suffer them to remain in his country only as long as they treated him with the respect and courtesy which his official station demanded. The Indian chiefs and Provincial officers then smoked the calumet together, and to the eye of the spectator a perfect harmony seemed to be established between them. But alas! it was doomed to a short existence. It would have been well had the English treated this powerful man with more respect; for by enraging him with insult, they brought an avalanche of savage warriors upon their defenseless settlements.

On the fifteenth of November the detachment reached the western end of Lake Erie, and encamped at the mouth of the Detroit river. Here they were informed that the Indians of Detroit were in arms ready to give them battle, and that four hundred warriors lay in ambush not more than half a mile distant. At this juncture Rogers turned to his new made friend for assistance. He requested Pontiac to send forward a deputation of his warriors to persuade the Indians to extend a peaceful reception to the English. The great chief complied, and, obedient to his word, the savages abandoned their designs. This accomplished the rangers continued their course towards Detroit.

The whale-boats passed slowly up the river until the rangers came within full view of the little fort and the Indian villages around it. They could see the French flag waving in the breeze over the ramparts of the fort, and, no doubt, they felt eager to supply its place by the Cross of St. George. Rogers landed his troops on the opposite side of the river, and pitched his

tents upon the meadow. He then crossed the river with two officers and a few soldiers, and summoned the French garrison to surrender. In obedience "the soldiers defiled upon the plain, and laid down their arms." The English flag was now unfolded, and in a few moments the British were in full possession of Detroit.

The Indians, to the number of nearly two thousand, witnessed this singular transfer with wonder and amazement. Why so few Englishmen should thus quietly disarm so many Frenchmen, was, to their savage minds, a question not easily solved. To say the least, it was, in the Indian's way of viewing it, a grand demonstration of English prowess. The surrender had scarcely been completed when all the savages present sent up a burst of triumphant yells, as if to declare that their sympathies were already with the conquerors.

Rogers took possession of Detroit on the 29th day of November, 1760. The French garrison was sent down the lake as prisoners, while the Canadian inhabitants were allowed to enjoy peaceful possession of their farms and dwellings on the condition of swearing allegiance to the British crown. Forts Miami and Onatauon were next relieved, but Michilimackinac and the adjacent posts were so far distant that, owing to the advanced season, they remained in the hands of the French till the following spring, when a small detachment took possession of them, and thus completed the work assigned to Major Rogers.

The English were now in full possession of their conquests, the Indians alone remaining to dispute their possessions.

CHAPTER III.

THE WILDERNESS AND ITS INHABITANTS AT THE CLOSE OF THE FRENCH WAR-TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE-THE OUTPOSTS OF CIVILIZATION— THE HIGHWAYS OF THE WILDERNESS.

EVERY reader of American history will remember that, after the defeat of Braddock, the western tribes of Indians rose unanimously against the English. They had come to regard the "red coats as intruders, and, misguided by the French, they believed the English had formed a design to drive them from the country. And now that their enemies had possessed themselves of Canada and the western outposts, the savages began to discern the approaching ruin of their race. It was at this period that the frontier settlements of Pennsylvania felt the Scourge of Indian war. The onslaught extended into Maryland and Virginia, and a wide-spread havoc desolated the border settlements. During the whole summer and autumn of 1755 the slaughter raged with increasing fury. The western forests appeared to be alive with infuriated warriors, and day after day, and week after week, scalping parties sallied forth from its pathless depths, murdering women and children without mercy. The log cabin of the hard working pioneer disappeared in smoke and flame, while the frightened inmates, in attempting to escape the raging element, fell into the hands of the blood-thirsty savages. Thus continued the awful work of death and devastation, until, in 1756, the Indians, under various influences, laid down the hatchet. In the following year a treaty of peace was concluded between these Indians and the colonists, which also had a good result. This treaty, however, did not embrace the Indians of the Ohio, who comprised many of the bravest Delaware and Shawanoe warriors, and who still continued their murderous assaults until 1758,

when, hearing of the advance of General Forbes, and seeing that the French cause was utterly hopeless they accepted terms of peace. The Six Nations, however, were still unfriendly. At the outbreak of the war, they had manifested some signs of friendship, but the disasters which had attended the first campaign gave them a very poor idea of British prowess. They became still more disgusted with the English, when, on the following year, they beheld their defeat at Oswego. It is said that many of them fought with the French in this battle. But, fortunately, success favored the English in the succeeding contests. Du Quesne and Louisburg were taken, and the fierce Iroquois, seeing these achievements, went over to the side of the conquerers, and from that day, fought in the interests of the English. This was one of their greatest mistakes, for, with the fall of Canada their doom was sealed. They no longer held the balance of power between the rival colonies, and, being lightly regarded as allies, they were left to their own limited resources. The numerous tribes of the west, however, arrayed themselves on the side of the French, and fought in the interests of Canada through the whole war. At its conclusion they retired into the forests, where they remained inactive until called to battle by the voice of the mightiest of warriors-Pontiac, the Ottawa chief.

And now, before entering upon an account of that terrible contest, the Pontiac War, which makes the first part of our narrative, it will be proper to glance at that vast country which the Indians had resolved to wrest from the hands of their enemies. "One vast, continuous forest," says Francis Parkman, "shadowed the fertile soil, covering the land as the grass covers the garden lawn, sweeping over hill and hollow, in endless undulation, burying mountains in verdure, and mantling brooks and rivers from the light of day. Green intervals dotted with browsing deer, and broad plains blackened with buffalo, broke the sameness of the woodland scenery. Unnumbered rivers seamed the forest with their devious windings. Vast lakes washed its boundaries, where the Indian voyager, in his birch canoe, could descry no land beyond the world of waters. Yet this prolific wilderness, teeming with waste fer

tility, was but a hunting ground and a battle field to a few fierce hordes of savages. Here and there, in some rich meadow opened to the sun, the Indian squaws turned the black mould with their rude implements of bone or iron, and sowed their scanty stores of maize and beans. Human labor drew no

other tribute from that inexhaustable soil."

The population, consisting almost entirely of Indians, was so thin and scattered that sometimes one might travel for whole weeks without meeting a human form. Kentucky was but a "skirmishing ground for the hostile tribes of the north and south;" while in many parts of the lake region hundreds of square miles were inhabited only by wild beasts. At the close of the French War, the Indian population of the whole northwest did not exceed thirty thousand. Out of this number there were not more than ten thousand fighting men. Yet this army, when detached and scattered after the Indian customs of warfare, was all that the English could master.

The condition of the savages had changed, although, perhaps, it was but little improved. Onondaga, the capital of the Iroquois, where their council fires had been kindled from time out of mind, was no longer a place of great importance. The ancient council house of bark was still to be seen, but its deserted appearance bespoke the fall of the Six Nations. Their other villages presented a similar spectacle. Everywhere civilization had worked evil for the savages. It was true that the use of firearms aided them in the chase, but all the advantage of the arts could not atone for the evils of rum. "High up the Susquehanna were seated the Northcokes, Conoys, and Mohicans, with a portion of the Delawares. Detached bands of the western Iroquois dwelt upon the headwaters of the Alleghany, mingled with their neighbors, the Delawares, who had several villages upon this stream. The great body of the latter nation, however, lived upon the Beaver creeks and the Muskingum in numerous scattered towns and hamlets." In each village might have been seen one large building of better style than the rest. This was devoted to festivals, dances, and public meetings.

Along the Sciota were the lodges of the Shawanoes. To the